


Shrek AU Ficlet: The Morning After

by Cacaxa



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Cacaxa, Gravity Falls - Freeform, Shrek AU, fiddlestan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-18
Updated: 2016-03-18
Packaged: 2018-05-27 13:24:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6286390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cacaxa/pseuds/Cacaxa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes venting helps.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shrek AU Ficlet: The Morning After

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place the morning after the reveal of the curse.

The world comes into focus as he slowly comes to consciousness, the sun streaming through the cracks in the blinds of the motel room.

_Oh, thank God…._

He can barely hold in his relief at being himself again. The insanity’s gone.

However, his happiness is short lived when he recalls the events of the previous night.

_Oh shit…_

Stan knows. He knows his deepest, darkest secret, kept buried and managed for years. How is he supposed to talk to him after that? After Stan’s seen him at his worst?

Before he can think further, he’s pulled from his thoughts by a voice:

“Hey, nerd!” Stan calls, “Breakfast is here! Come get it before it’s cold!”

_Oh sweet Lord…_

Gathering every bit of his self control, Fiddleford pulls himself from the covers and onto unsteady legs.

Taking a place at the table, he wordlessly gathers a small plate, not willing to look Stan in the eye. To his credit, he doesn’t say anything to him either. However, Fiddleford knows he has to address it.

“I-I’m sorry about…about last night. you shouldn’t’ve had to see that.”

Stan looks up from his plate, straight into his eyes. “You don’t have anything to apologize for,” he says. “It’s fine.”

“No, it’s _not!”_ Fiddleford protests, “You-you don’t _understand…”_

“It seemed clear to me,” Stan answers. “You turn into that…” he makes a circular gesture with his right hand, “that hillbilly guy at night?”

Fiddleford winces, but nods. “Yes, Stanley-but there’s more to it than that.”

“I’m all ears.”

Taking a short breath, Fiddleford begins.

“Several years ago, your brother and I were…partners. I was his lab assistant, to be more specific.”

“Ok…”

“He called me to come from Palo Alto to help him build a Trans-universal poly dimensional meta vortex-” When he sees Stan’s blank expression, he simplifies.

“- a portal to other worlds.”

“…Oh.”

“Yeah,” he agrees, “And, well…things went south after that.”

“How far?” Stan asks.

Fiddleford sighs. “Pretty far.”

He has to mentally prepare himself to talk about what happened next.

“Things started well, but as the year went on, I realized Ford was keeping _secrets,_ wouldn’t _talk_ to me. He didn’t tell me he was in contact with this… _demon,_ this _beast,_ who tricked him into thinking he was a friend. He’s the “mean ‘ol triangle” I was…well, raving about last night.”

“Yeah, I was wondering what that was about…”

“His name’s Bill Cipher. And he wants nothing more than to see our entire dimension burn. And-” Fiddleford takes a shaky breath, “He’s the reason that you saw the way I was last night.”

_“What?”_ Stan asks, incredulous, “How does that even make _sense?”_

“He cursed me,” Fiddleford says simply. “After I saw what he was planning- there was an accident with the machine, I was…sucked partway in.”

He shudders involuntarily. The sight of the horrors, the sheer insanity, the weirdness of the places Bill wanted to make his home still haunt him.

 "And…I couldn’t _take it,_ what I _saw._ I couldn’t believe that I’d almost helped him bring about the end of the human _race._ I _tried_ to warn Ford, but he wouldn’t _listen-_ said he couldn’t destroy his life’s work. So… I quit. I left Ford behind.”

“…Damn. Fidds, that’s-” Stan pauses as he looks at him, clearly not sure what to say. “That’s horrible.”

“That’s not even the _worst_ of it.”

Stan’s face falls.

“Bill came to me in my dreams,” Fiddleford continues, “And he was none too pleased that I’d accidentally caught on to his true plans. You see, after I left, Ford finally listened- he confronted him and shut the thing down. In a way, I ruined Bill’s scheme, and he wanted revenge.”

He looks to the floor.

“So, he cast a spell on me. Tried to give me karmic punishment, I guess. Said that I wasn’t as smart as I tried to make myself out to be, that deep down I was just like my family.”

“Jeeze, your family’s that crazy?”

“No!” Fiddleford interjects, “ It’s just… Where I come from, people aren’t really expected to be _smart,_ you know? It’s all a bunch of southern stereotypes- and Bill wanted me to be one. So, that’s what the curse does.”

He wrings his hands, unable to look Stan in the eye. “Now every day I’m myself- nothing happens, I’m like everyone else. But every night, when the sun sets, I’m…” he pauses, having to take a moment before continuing, “…I’m _him.”_

He spits this with a bit more disdain and unwillingness than he’d like, but he has to admit the truth.

“It’s _terrifying._ You don’t understand what it’s _like_ when I change, Stan. To-to lose yourself every night, to be forced to be something like _that._ A- a _joke._ To have crowds of people mocking and judging you for something you can’t _control,_ that you can’t _explain_ …God, I’m like an _animal…”_

He can barely control himself as tears begin prickling the edges of his eyes, unwanted memories surfacing unbidden .

“I had to leave my _life_ behind, Stan. I was finally _happy_ \- finally in a place I felt I belonged and never wanted to loose in the first place. And even if Ford’s cure works, I don’t think I’d be welcomed back with open arms. Not after I basically dropped off the face of the Earth.”

Stan's speechless.

_“…Damn.”_

Fiddleford breathes. “It’s _hard._ I feel like I’ve been on the run _forever._ I can’t _stay_ anywhere, I don’t even know how he _found_ me…”

He’s stopped by Stan speaking up.

“…I understand more than you think.”

Fiddleford furrows his brow in puzzlement. “How? It’s not like _you’ve_ ever had to live on the run. You’ve never been homeless, running from job to job-”

“-I have.”

Fiddleford’s dumbstruck. “Really?”

“Yeah. My old man threw me out before I even graduated.”

“You’re kidding.”

“I’m not,” Stan says, and Fiddleford can see he’s serious. “It’s a long story, and I don’t want to get into the details right now, but let’s just say that I know what it’s like.”

“But-why would your own _father-”_

“Not now.”

Though he wants to press on, Fiddleford knows from Stan’s tone that he has to let the matter drop. But he does feel he has to say _something:_

“…Thank you. For listening. I’ve never told anyone else about this beside your brother. It’s…it’s nice to be able to let this out."

Stan smiles.

“No problem.”


End file.
